


Consensual

by Liquor Chugging Knight (wiglet)



Category: Wizards of Waverly Place
Genre: Angst, College, Denial, F/M, Incest, Pining, or at least Pre-Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 13:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5667547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wiglet/pseuds/Liquor%20Chugging%20Knight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The beginning is simple: Justin’s hand finds her arm in the middle of a jumping crowd, and he doesn’t let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consensual

The beginning is simple: Justin’s hand finds her arm in the middle of a jumping crowd, and he doesn’t let go.

 

The outdoor concert has whipped the crowd up to a dancing frenzy, the sound loud enough to damage ear drums, and the stage lights epileptic-bright against the night sky.  But even as the sea of bodies around them pitches and roils, he anchors his hand to her arm and refuses to move, enough to make her notice and stop jumping in time with the beat to stare at him.

 

She’s definitely annoyed and her mouth is twisting the way it usually does before she unleashes an unholy torrent of Justin-what-the-hell, but she gets one look at his face, and feels something unsettling growing in her stomach.

 

It’s in the way he’s looking at her, annoyed, angry and apologetic at the same time, that Alex starts to notice all the other things.  The gentle but insistent pressure of his fingers against the pulse of her wrist.  The way _his_ mouth is twisting the way it does when he’s trying to stop himself from saying what’s really on his mind.  Her heart starts to beat hard and fast in her chest, and it has nothing to do with the thumping baseline.

 

There’s a helpless confusion in his eyes, and it reminds Alex of the conversation they had that morning, sitting on the curb outside his dormitory, with Alex hiding her head between her knees because it was _so stupid_ of her to be crying in public.

 

He says nothing, and instead tugs on her arm, leading her away from the crowd, away from the stream of people making their way to the booming music, away from the gyrating vocalist on stage, and they wind up walking a quiet, secluded path that leads to—

 

(She can’t ask him.  She can’t bring herself to say anything because his brow is knitted and something in her chest is getting heavier and heavier, and her heartbeat hasn’t slowed down at all.)

 

—nowhere important.

 

His hand is no longer on her arm as they walk, but instead, rests on her far shoulder, anchoring her so securely to his side that she nearly trips keeping up because his legs are so much longer.  Normally, she’d kick a leg up backwards aimed at his ass, or dig her elbow into his ribs, anything to relieve the peculiar irritation growing in the pit of her stomach, but...the hand on her shoulder doesn’t have that familiar, comfortable weight it always has.  It’s firm but it’s also too gentle and every step makes his fingers rub up against her skin, and it’s all so off kilter and she doesn’t know how to act (neither notice how he unconsciously shortens his stride to match hers).

 

The path leads them past the back of some asymmetric looking structure that she can only guess is the College Building of Academic Whatever, and Justin suddenly stops, but Alex doesn’t realize it until his hand tightens on her wrist, where it had slipped down when Alex had kept on walking without him.  Alex feels her heartbeat double and triple and…fourple (was that a word?) and she can’t look at anything but their shoes as her brother cranes his neck to look at the path ahead of them and behind them.

 

With no one else around, he pulls her towards a darkened corner of the building.  There’s a small space for them to sit on, out of sight and barely any illumination to go by, but they remain standing and Justin puts a hand on her cheek and makes her look at him.

 

Alex feels stiff, her limbs heavy and foreign to her, and she feels the press of the wall behind her, and Justin in front of her, closing her off from the rest of the world.  There’s still some space between them, three inches of concrete between their shoes, and the contrast is so glaring because the cute little boots she’d just bought already had scuff marks while his favourite sneakers of five years were still immaculately off-the-shelf pristine.  Those same sneakers were now stepping closer, framing her own feet on either side, and her fingers are tingling but it’s not some sort of after-spell residue, it’s fear and it’s hope and it’s uncertainty and Alex _hates_ those feelings.

 

In the back of her mind she wonders how Justin knows there’s a place like this, if someone told him (and thought of her), or if he found it himself (and thought of her).  Had he been planning this all along (no, he’s not like that) or had he dreamt about bringing her here (but why would he, he would _never_ , he’s the **_smart_** one) or was this just a sudden, impulsively reckless thing that was happening without any reason (no reason at all, except, except, _except_ )?  Then Justin’s fingers brush her cheek, and it automatically makes her look up at him, their eyes meeting for the first time since he pulled her away from the concert, and Alex just…stops.

 

The crease between his brows is deeper now, and his breathing’s laboured, like he’s fighting something.  But his gaze falls on her mouth, and unconsciously, his thumb traces the fullness of her lower lip, the warmth of his finger a stark contrast to the chill of the night air.  His head bows, their lips so close she can almost taste him by the breath he exhales, ghosting over her skin, and it makes her shiver, makes her whisper his name so softly it’s almost soundless, and in that exact same moment, he freezes.

 

He jerks a little, away from her, as if he’s just become aware of where he was and who he was with, and there’s bewilderment, self-loathing, and unadulterated _want_ that flashes across his features and Alex _sees_ it.  She knows him.  She knows that his self-loathing will win out like it always does, and that he will (save her, always to save her) never finish what he started if she doesn’t do something about it, so she (doesn’t need saving thank you very much) moves her head the small distance it takes to the side where his hands are still frozen on her face and opens her mouth and sucks his thumb inside.

 

She sucks it all the way down until his entire finger disappears between her lips, and gives it one slow, gentle suck before her lips slide back up, her tongue carefully licking at the tip, before she releases it.  The wet sound of his thumb released from the suction of her red, shiny mouth is just _obscene_.  It makes Justin shiver, makes his hair stand on end, makes him exhale harshly, makes his pupils dilate, but most importantly, doesn’t make him ashamed that he’s harder than he’s ever been in his life and _it’s for_ _Alex_.

 

But he still tries to maintain some semblance of control because he couldn’t bring himself to indulge in something he (wants, craves, _needs_ ) knows might hurt her.  So even if it kills him, he has to stop her, he has to—

 

The moment he opens his mouth to say something, her hand immediately come up to cover it, and her gaze turns insolent.

 

“Shut up.  I love you and I don’t care.”

 

And so the beginning is simple: Alex’s hand finds his in this quiet space for just them alone, and she doesn’t let go.

**Author's Note:**

> A million unfinished fics in my computer but this ain't one. :p


End file.
